


Splash Zone

by DirtyKnots



Series: Kinktober 2019 [17]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Touch, Compulsive Behavior, Crack, Loss of Control, Loss of Inanimate Objects, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Other, Public Masturbation, and other things not belonging to Scott, brief dub con grinding, molestation of the camaro, this is the most ridiculous shit I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 10:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21073328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyKnots/pseuds/DirtyKnots
Summary: Kinktober 2019: Day 17 - MasturbationScott became an alpha and suddenly it was like his body had a mind of it's own. His dick in particular.





	Splash Zone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chazmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chazmagic/gifts).

> There's a very brief scene where Stiles is the unwilling assistant to Scott getting off and there's some bad touching, but it's not graphic. Still, take care of yourselves kiddos.

"Scott!" Stiles' yell startles Scott enough that he comes back to himself, hand sheepishly withdrawing from where he'd shoved it into his jeans to fondle his cock. "Seriously dude, what the hell?"

"I don't know man, ever since I got the alpha powers I just…"

"You manage not to do it when your mom is around, so maybe just pretend she's here for fucks sake." The rest of the pack ignores them, used to this argument by now. And also just as tired as Stiles is of seeing Scott forget where he is and start jacking off. The meeting resumes, Derek talking about the recent downturn in supernatural activity since they ran the remainder of the alpha pack out of town. 

Scott's hand creeps down a few more times, but the pack works as a team to throw shit at him and make him stop, and they manage to get through the rest of the meeting without Scott flooding the room with the scent of his spunk for once. The others clear out pretty fast, and Stiles assumes Scott's gone as well as he goes about picking up the mess from their takeout. He's just bending between the coffee table and sofa when hands yank at his hips and suddenly there's a hardened cock grinding and humping against his ass.

"Scott! What the fuck?! Bad dog!"

"So-sorry, can't can't…" Scott doesn't stop and Stiles can't manage to wriggle out of his grasp, body stuck at an awkward angle.

"Derek! What the hell? A little help?" Stiles can just turn his head, see Derek staring at them, eyes glittering in clear amusement.

"Dog jokes aren't really funny Stiles." His voice is deadpan but his expression definitely gives lie to that.

"Okay, sorry, but seriously, get him off me." Derek takes a step forward and then suddenly there are claws prickling at Stiles' hips and a low growl coming from behind him. Stiles watches Derek's eyes flash, fangs dropping as he snarls, but he doesn't make another move forward. The humping increases on pace until Stiles is yanked back hard and it turns to full on grinding, Scott whining behind him and murmuring apologies. As soon as he shudders his way through his release, Scott is spitting out an apology and running out of the loft, and Stiles just slumps down into the floor, glaring at Derek.

"Thanks for the help dude, that was super useful.

"Did you miss the part where he was losing control of the wolf? Because I thought you might like to keep your skin intact and not shredded. And also that you don't want the bite."

"I...fine. But seriously, what the fuck is wrong with him? He's getting worse, not better."

"How should I know?"

"Because you too are an alpha werewolf."

"Yeah, born, not bitten."

"Is it like...a mating rut? Like now that he's the alpha, he wants to expand his pack?"

"That's not a thing."

"Well you just said he's bitten not born, so maybe it's different for him. Or different because he's a true alpha. Or maybe he's just going through puberty again as a wolf."

Stiles had finally started moving while they talked, gathering himself up off the floor. He left the trash because Derek could deal with that now. He also surreptitiously swiped a hand over his ass to make sure Scott didn't leave a wet spot behind, which he thankfully did not. Derek follows Stiles out of the loft and down the stairs, still arguing back any suggestion Stiles makes about what could be causing Scott's behavior. Stiles is looking right at him, and so gets the joy of seeing the utter horror that crosses Derek's face when they hit the loft's parking lot and find Scott, bare assed, grinding his somehow hard again cock onto the hood of the Camaro. Derek growls and moves forward and immediately has to stop when there's the sound of nails scraping against metal. Stiles cackles. Outright cackles, and Derek turns a betrayed expression on him.

"You think she'll need some morning after when he's done with her?"

"I fucking hate you." Derek turns and stalks back inside the building, shoulders tensed.

"Aww, don't be like that." Stiles calls after him while still laughing and Derek just flips him the finger before the door closes behind him. 

"Scotty, at least buy her a drink first!" Stiles yells across the lot, moving to his own car, and laughs again when Scott comes out of his rutting daze with a screech - though Stiles isn't sure if it's because he's bare skin on cold metal outside in plain view and he's just now realizing it or if it's because of whose car he was molesting. Either way, Stiles finds a little humor in the situation again and then quickly gets in the Jeep and heads home before Scott can decide he wants round two with him.

It doesn't get better but it stops getting worse, mostly. Thankfully Scott doesn't hump Stiles like an ill-mannered puppy again, at least. But his hand is almost always down his pants, jerking himself off sometimes, just fondling his junk other times. They've stopped trying to make him stop because every time they do, some poor inanimate object gets humped instead. Stiles has taken to lining his window and door with mountain ash, and setting a circle of it around the Jeep. He’s not sure what the wolves are doing, but Scott has looked affronted on a few occasions, nose wrinkling in disgust and the others not making eye contact with anyone. That doesn’t mean they haven’t lost a few things. The most comfortable chair in the loft has been designated as Scott’s after the time they had to watch him whip out his cock and literally fuck into the chair, somehow managing to contort his body and shove it between the cushion and the arm until he nutted off inside of it. Isaac has had to replace three backpacks now because Scott says the lining feels nice. Isaac has also apparently lost most of his scarf collection for the same reason, which Stiles secretly finds very amusing.

Stiles has exactly zero desire to find out what Scott had done to his poor dirtbike the one night the sheriff had come home and gone straight for the bottle after catching him (and Stiles knows something happened because Scott called frantic and Stiles shut him down - his dad mercifully never talks about it). He knows Melissa has taken to lining half the rooms in their house too (apparently whatever had kept Scott from jerking it in front of his mom had disappeared about a week ago, according to Deaton who had supplied Melissa with a substantial amount of mountain ash). He also knows Deaton is very close to getting Scott his very own shock collar for when he’s at work. Mostly the man has been using the sprayers used for bathing the animals to keep Scott in check.

They’ve all given up trying to stop him, just learning to work around the constant smell of spunk - strong even to Stiles’ nose, and ignore it as best they can, even though Scott’s cock is out more than it’s covered anymore. Mostly the pack just gives Scott his own bowl of snacks or his own side of the table when they try to go out to eat somewhere. It's gotten to the point where Scott will carry on full conversations while fucking up into his own fist or grinding against the nearest object for friction. Neither Derek nor Deaton has come up with an answer, so the pack does they only thing they can. They stay out of the splash zone.

**Author's Note:**

> Come prompt me on [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/dirtyknots).  
All of my additional contact information can be found on my [Profile Page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyKnots/profile)!


End file.
